


Scope to Dream

by seori



Category: Tortall - Tamora Pierce, Tricksters - Tamora Pierce
Genre: F/M, Series: Daughter of the Lioness | Tricksters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-16
Updated: 2012-06-16
Packaged: 2017-11-07 21:07:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/435473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seori/pseuds/seori
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Sarai hears of the Rittevons' plans for her marriage, she seeks out Zaimid.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scope to Dream

"I was in Carthak last night," Sarai says, and her eyes are very dark and soft. Zaimid has to lean closer to hear her, though he has tried to avoid paying the girl too much attention. Even in the few times they have spoken alone, he has felt the danger of it. Too much balances on Sarai Balitang, in the nervous way she is watched by the royals and the nobles. If Zaimid lets her distract him, he will get pulled into the undertow in the fight for her affections.

For a moment, he thinks that wouldn't be a bad thing, and he could spend his days surrounded by that all-consuming passion, that desire to know as much as she can of the world outside her reach. But he is not welcome in this luarin country, and neither does he wish to abandon his position as Head of the Imperial University Healers before he has even had a chance to assume it.

"I flew across the land," she continues, when he does not respond. "I had wings, and they took me from here, where I do not want to be - and they took me to your home."

There is something brittle about Sarai today, Zaimid notes, and then he blinks as he hears her describe his town square. "You dreamed this?" he enquires, wondering if the eyes of the gods have turned towards Sarai. He has kept close counsel about his hometown, choosing to discuss only the capital with her when she asks. If the gods are involving themselves, it cannot bode well.

She nods. "I thought I was sure to forget it on waking, but it's as clear as ever."

"Perhaps one day, you will light it up with your fair beauty."

He is speaking idly, both trying to stave further questions about himself and flattering her because he wishes to see her smile. The hope that blazes across her face takes him aback. He cannot take this girl away from her family - and he has a feeling the royals are looking for her to marry to their advantage, rather than for her own happiness. Kaddar does not need international problems caused by the person he has tasked with making things better.

"I would go in an instant," Sarai declares, and he believes her - but he also believes that she would go in _this_ instant, and regret it in the next.

Zaimid needs to retract, but he cannot think how to do so without causing offence. In the end, it is his lack of response which dims Sarai's smile.

"I've been watching you," she says next, confessing what they both know. It has been a dance between them, and he is more aware of her when she is on the other side of the room than when she stands right in front of him. "You heal anybody in need of healing."

He clears his throat, which has become suddenly thick. "I would be a poor healer if I did not."

She accepts this, and then adds, "We have many poor healers here."

It is the closest they have come to outright criticising the Isles, though he has sensed her dissatisfaction in her hunger to hear how other countries act. Zaimid does not respond, cannot afford to respond because he has learnt about eavesdroppers the hard way.

"Will you heal me?"

Zaimid meets her steady gaze, unable to guess her game. He senses he is on dangerous ground here, and he doesn't quite understand why. She is at once intense and flirtatious, one eyebrow arched. "What is my lady's affliction?"

There is a pause as Sarai turns his question over in her mind, deliberating over her response. "An arranged marriage."

It strikes him harder than he would have expected - he who had always intended to return home after this investigative visit. Alone. He can read the distress on her face, however, and this makes him ask, "To whom?"

He is not sure how he will feel when she answers 'Ferdy'.

It is not her answer, however, and when she names the child king instead, his first reaction is disbelief. This country, these people - their politics and manipulations are too much for him. "I cannot stay here," she whispers fiercely, and all that passion bubbles to the surface once more. He can see now that she was trying to restrain herself before and, moreover, that she is right, because the Rittevons would use her until there was nothing left. "I am begging you to take me with you when you leave."

"Lady Sarai-" She closes her eyes as he voices her name, and refusing her would be too hard. Not when he knows that it would mean condemning her to the life of a puppet queen at best. Assuming she remained important enough alive. "Carthak is _not_ a paradise. We are facing a constant uphill struggle."

"You are _facing_ it," Sarai interrupts. "Not turning your back, not trampling on it."

"I cannot take an unmarried girl to Carthak," he answers, and there is the truth of the matter. However much he would like to continue this dance on his home territory, it is out of the question. "Your reputation would be ruined before you arrived."

Her face falls, and he reaches for her hand, locking the tips of their fingers together. His heart pounds, and he can hardly believe what he is about to suggest. He is risking too much, and yet- And yet. "A _married_ girl, even one who had taken leave of her senses and accepted a fool of a healer - now that's a different story."

Sarai looks down at their hands, and brings their palms together. "How does it end?"

"I'd like to find out."

She smiles at him, unexpectedly sweet. "As would I."


End file.
